La Dolce Vita
by kashirsky
Summary: An unpleasant anniversary, pasta for two, a sudden disappearance, a flawed sense of justice. She cannot forget her sister, and he cannot forget about her. Maybe someday… [ConanAi/ShinichiShiho]
1. PART I

**A/N**: Well... I really don't know what you'll think. This was originally meant to be a one-shot, however it insisted for more screen time... so, the second/last part will probably be posted sometime next week or so? In the meantime, please _do_ tell me what you think. This fic hasn't been betaed, and it's written in present tense, so there may be grammatical errors or tense irregularities or parts that don't make sense and so on...

'_La dolce vita_' is Italian, and it means '_The sweet life_'. The phrase was made famous as the title of a 1960 comedy-drama film directed by Federico Fellini, and it is about a journalist's search for love and happiness...

Anyway, enjoy!

* * *

**SUMMARY**: _An unpleasant anniversary, pasta for two, a sudden disappearance, a flawed sense of justice. She cannot forget her sister, and he cannot forget about her. Maybe someday… [ConanAi/ShinichiShiho_]

* * *

**LA DOLCE VITA**

© All rights belong to Gosho Aoyama, the creator of Meitantei Konan / Detective Conan / Case Closed.  
kashirsky does not own anything.

* * *

**PART I**

THOSE SAD, BLUE EYES

* * *

EDOGAWA Conan is a detective.

It is his job to be observant, however he did not need to be a detective – only a good friend – to know that Haibara Ai is acting strangely.

Oh – not the _usual _strange for him as a _detective_; he doesn't _think_ that she will commit a murder or rob a bank anytime soon – but something is definitely bothering her. He can see it in the way her posture is slightly too straight, almost rigid; the way her eyes are dull and faraway and darkened to a cobalt blue; the way her gaze is somewhat lowered, and has been for the whole day; and the way her hand is tucked into the pocket of her coat, not to protect it from the cold, but to hold something tightly.

And he _definitely_ notices it when he touches her lightly on the shoulder to rouse her from her apparent daydream, and uncharacteristically, she instantly freezes and jumps back. Her eyes widen, terrified, and she gasps – no, _hisses_ – even as she looks up and registers his concerned expression, "_Don't touch me!_"

Stupefied, he steps back, holding his hands up. "Hey…" he begins awkwardly, as Ayumi, Genta and Mitsuhiko turn around from the path ahead, startled at the shout. Ai smiles, a small (_ingenuine_) smile which doesn't reach her eyes.

"Don't worry," she says soothingly, turning towards the Detective Boys. "I just remembered that Hakase is sick today, so I need to go home and look after him."

"Oh," Ayumi says, eyes full of worry. "Maybe we should all go to visit Hakase! We can cheer him up! It's winter holidays so we don't have to leave early!" Mitsuhiko nods earnestly in agreement and Genta makes an approving sound through a mouthful of cake.

"No," Ai smiles gently. "Hakase will be tired, and having a group of unruly kids over won't be beneficial to his health…"

"Oh, I didn't think of that." Ayumi frowns, voice repentant. She shows no sign of offence at being labelled an 'unruly kid'.

"Well, goodbye then," Ai responds, eyes kind.

The smile falls from her face when she turns around. She's halfway down the street when she abruptly stops, and a certain detective walks straight into her.

"Ghosting me isn't funny, Kudo-kun," she says flatly, turning around to glare at the miniature detective sprawled on the ground. "The detective agency isn't in this direction. What are you doing?"

"Well," Conan scrambles up ungracefully, "I know Hakase isn't sick. He's not even in Tokyo, is he? He flew to Osaka this morning for one of his science-y conference things."

"Oh, is that so," Ai replies airily, unconcerned about her earlier lie. "Well, you've already solved a mystery. Your ego has been fed for the day. Go home."

"You've been acting really weird today, Haibara," he says bluntly.

"Oh, have I now?" Ai turns around without another word, continues on her way.

"You have," Conan confirms unnecessarily, following the strawberry-blonde. He falls into step beside her. "What's wrong? You can talk to me about it."

"Leave me alone," Ai says coolly, without a glance at him.

He notices that the hand in her pocket tightens, and he frowns. He decides to state the obvious.

"It's got something to do with the thing you're holding in your pocket, right?"

Ai pauses. She turns around, looks at him in the eyes (he notes that her eyes are blue, icy blue, flashing with fire – and he laughs internally at his lame, contradicting mental metaphors).

"_Leave. Me. Alone_," Ai spits out, and opens the gate to the Agasa mansion. She begins to slide it closed behind her but Conan's hand flies out and stops the motion. She turns around, glares at him yet again.

"I'm sorry," he says, apologetically. "I can't. I'm a detective, and I don't like mysteries." Ai harrumphs and mutters something about "_useless, idiotic detectives"_. She unlocks the front door, leaving it open behind her.

Conan smiles widely, and follows her in.

It is now twilight, he notes, and he reassures himself that by the end of the night, he will have figured out what has been troubling Haibara today.

He is surprised when he finds her in the kitchen.

"Are you okay?" he dares to ask.

"Yes."

"Really?"

"No," Ai responds flatly.

Searching through the fridge and pantry, she tosses out various ingredients – a box of small, shell-shaped pasta, broccoli, cloves of garlic, packet of grated cheese, and so on – and Conan frowns in confusion. _Cooking_ was Haibara's method for stress relief? _Well, who knew_, he reflects. He thinks he would know the shrunken scientist well enough by now, but she surprises him so often.

It is only when the house is filled with a rich, delicious smell that Ai breaks the silence.

"Orecchiette," she says, as a way of explanation, "for two." At this, she looks at Conan, almost curiously. Then, she shakes her head as if to rid herself of her thoughts. She looks away, continues. "It means '_little ears_' in Italian, because that's what the pasta looks like. Nee-chan thought it was cute. This was her favourite recipe."

She is proud that her voice does not waver.

"Oh… I'm sorry…" Conan doesn't really know what to say.

"Well, now that you know why I suddenly took up cooking, you can wipe the surprised look off your face and go back to the detective agency. It's about dinnertime," she looks outside at the last, feeble rays of sunlight, "and Mouri-san will be missing you."

"Hey, you know what?" Conan smiles nervously. "I think I'll be staying here instead. I don't think you should be alone tonight."

"Why ever not?" Ai's strangely innocent voice is light, casual, _too casual_, and Conan's suspicions are confirmed, and yet, he hates to admit, he still does not understand.

"Well, I don't _know_, exactly," he begins uncertainly, and at this, Ai gives an unladylike snort which sounds suspiciously like she was choking – _nah, can't be_. "But I feel like you might do something stupid tonight."

"A psychic detective, hmm?" Ai murmurs absentmindedly, placing a piece of pasta in her mouth to check if it was _al dente_. Satisfied, she switches off the stove and turns back to the detective, crossing her arms defensively. "Why tonight?" she challenges.

"I don't _know_," Conan growls, frustrated, and he can't help but notice Ai's eyes dimming slightly. Hastily, he adds, adding a cheeky smile for good measure, "You said the recipe is for two, right? Well, I'll stay to help you finish it off. We can't have you getting fat, can we?"

Ai blinks. "I _don't_ get fat," she enunciates slowly, eyes furrowed into a glare, the strongest yet that she had sent his way today.

But she doesn't protest as Conan sets the table for two.

* * *

"THAT was _delicious_," Conan says, and Ai doesn't even look at him.

"Of course," she says simply, matter-of-fact, with no trace of arrogance. She holds out her hand for his bowl and cutlery and washes it, standing on a chair by the sink. Beside her, Conan rinses the dishes and wipes them dry.

"Well, you've sampled my cooking. You can go now." Bluntly, Ai suddenly speaks up. The calming sound of running water abruptly stops as she turns off the tap.

"… nah, I think I'll stay for a bit longer." Conan watches Ai carefully for any sign or reaction, but she just shrugs.

"Suit yourself," she says carelessly, and makes her way to her lab.

Conan finds a Sherlock Holmes book – _The Hound of the Baskervilles_ – that he left on the couch in the living room on his last visit, and retrieving it, he follows the strawberry-blonde on her way.

He idly wonders whether she'll murder him or kick him out for infringing onto her territory, but, she is already furiously typing away on her computer, and her tired sigh is the only recognition he receives as he pokes his head through the doorway.

Shrugging, he looks around the dark room for a place to sit, preferably near the scientist because _he still needs to figure out why she is acting so strangely_, and finally, he sits down on the floor, leaning against her desk.

He opens his book, turns the pages idly, but the words do not make their way to his mind. He is lost in his thinking, until Ai's coat suddenly falls to the ground.

Blinking himself out of his reverie, his eyes brighten.

_The pocket_, he thinks as he reaches out to pick it up. _The thing that's in there – Haibara has been cooking, she hasn't had a chance to hide it away yet, so – _

His train of thought was brusquely cut off by the sharp voice of Ai. "Don't," she says, not looking from the computer. The simple word freezes him in his tracks, his arm still outstretched towards the pale, cream-coloured coat. "You're thinking about what is in my pocket, right? Well, whatever it is, you don't want to know."

"Why not?" he asks.

After a few moments, she finally turns her face towards him, and her eyes were suddenly sad, _so sad_ – why do they look somewhat familiar? – and he is so confused, he wants to hug her, touch her but he remembers when she jumped back from him earlier today and he just wishes that he _knew her better_ so he'd understand –

"You still don't get it, do you?" Ai remarks finally, voice quiet. She is watching him, watching his internal struggle with bemusement and a kind of sadness.

She reaches down, picks her coat up, brushes it off. Then she offers the pocket to Conan, a self-mocking smile on her face. "Well, it's a mystery that even you couldn't solve, after all…"

His eyes widen in confusion, he looks at her, then hesitantly reaches in – and draws out a small, crumpled ball of paper.

It is from a newspaper, neatly and carefully clipped, and with a shock, he recognises himself in the photograph beside the article. Himself, Ran hugging tightly him from behind, and in front, a dead body, of…

"Hirota Masa – " he starts to whisper but he cuts himself off.

Those familiar sad eyes – that had been Haibara's _sister_ he had been remembering before, just before she _died_. _Miyano Akemi... _With a feeling of dread, he looks at the date of the article, just to make sure. _Oh_, he thinks, _oh_.

Hirota Masami – no, Miyano Akemi had died this day, last year… he feels horrible, he feels insensitive, he feels blindsided, he feels _guilty_...

"I'm sorry," he mutters awkwardly.

"Do you get it now?" Ai's voice is deadly quiet, and he flinches as though she had screamed. Ai stares directly at him. Her gaze in unwavering, and he finds that he can't look away.

"You think that because you're a _detective_, you have the right to pry into other people's business, find out all their secrets, and _rip them apart_." Her voice is quiet but her words are sharp, harsh. "Do you think about the consequences of your actions? Well, you don't have to be there for them, so I don't see why you will.

"You call it _justice_, but admit it, you feel a sense of _achievement_ when you unravel every new _mystery,_ don't you? Is that what I am to you? Is that what _Nee-chan_ was to you?"

"No, I – " his attempts to defend himself were cut off promptly.

"All she was to you was some _bank robber_." Ai pronounces her words clearly, coldly. "All _I _am to you is your _antidote_. Well, our impasse will end soon; you don't have to wait for much longer." She smiles, a mocking, self-deprecating smile that does not reach her eyes. "I'm close, so close to working out the formula. I'm actually rather disappointed in myself for taking so long. But producing it won't take much time at all – so I estimate that in about a week, give or take a few days, _Kudo Shinichi_ will be back."

She says his real name with mild derision, and he winces as if slapped.

"And you, what will you do?" he asks tentatively, not sure if she'll rip his head off, but curious of her own plans for her future.

The soft luminosity of the computer screen highlights Ai's Western blue eyes, and she looks both foreign and familiar at the same time. The pale, blue glow gives her an otherworldly look; faraway, untouchable.

"Italy," Ai says, a beatific smile suddenly lines her face, the transformation so quick that Conan wonders if she might be hysterical. "That's where I'll go. _La dolce vita, _you know, and those quaint little sea-side towns… I've always wanted to go, but I couldn't just ignore someone suffering because of APTX." She gestures to his diminutive form as a way of explanation. "I have no ties in Italy, so Hakase and the Detective Boys won't be in danger when the Organisation finds me.

"Also, Nee-chan loved it there, you know."

As sudden as it had come, the radiance dissolves from her eyes, and she turns back to her computer. Her intermittent typing starts up again, and the conversation abruptly ends, as suddenly as it had begun.

Staring in shock at Ai's uncharacteristic outburst, Conan doesn't know what to say. He quietly walks out of the lab, looks back at the strawberry-blonde who shows no response, and he feels displaced, lost.

_'What went wrong_?' he wonders, and all he can think about are those sad, blue eyes.

* * *

_TBC._

* * *

**A/N**: Okay. I have no excuse or explanation for this; there will not be any important historical significance or mind-blowing links from Italy to this story, so please don't expect it, I'm not _that_ smart, despite periodically reading about murders and how to commit them...

Thoughts, opinions, rants...? Give it to me, hard. ;)


	2. PART II

**A/N: **Okay. I don't... even know. I promised one week; it takes me three to post this up. Honestly, I have no idea what I was thinking when I wrote this. It was meant to be somewhat introspective, yet also vague. Make of it what you will - I wasn't going to post this, but I hate leaving things unfinished, so...

* * *

**LA DOLCE VITA**

…

© All rights belong to Gosho Aoyama, the creator of Meitantei Konan / Detective Conan / Case Closed.  
kashirsky does not own anything.

* * *

**PART II**

LET'S GO HOME

* * *

Haibara Ai disappears suddenly one day.

"Her parents came for her," Hakase explains to Ayumi, Mitsuhiko and Genta. "They've taken her on holiday to Italy, and then they might return to America."

"But she never _told_ us!" Ayumi exclaims, tears in her large, confused eyes.

"It was very sudden for me, too," Hakase awkwardly tries to console her, eyes shiny behind his glasses.

Conan shifts uncomfortably, one hand in his pocket, gripping a small, nondescript box tightly. The cold winter wind from the open window blows into his face, and he is reminded of the moment he realised she was _gone_, when Ran told him that he had a package addressed to him and he had, with the worst of premonitions, tore away at the brown paper to reveal the simple, metal container with a single pill inside. His insides had suddenly gone cold, and his heart had frozen.

There was an accompanying sheet of paper, with the words '_Be safe and happy – despite everything, it was all I ever wanted for you_' and he had immediately torn off to Hakase's place, scared that _Italy_ wasn't just a dream, it was a _reality_…

He sighs. It has been ten days after she as good as screamed at him back in her lab, and he hadn't talked to her since. She had disappeared, and now she is _gone_, really _gone_ – somehow, despite having complete faith in Miyano Shiho's biomedicinal abilities and knowing that _someday_, she will find an antidote and everything will change… he hadn't expected _this_, hadn't expected not having her in his life, he had taken her for granted, thinking that she will never disappear as abruptly as she had appeared, hell, he didn't think that she would disappear _at all_…

"…oh!" Hakase brightens up slightly. "Ai-kun made some pasta for me before she left, but she made quite a lot… so how about we heat it up and try some of Ai's cooking? The pasta had a special name, it was something like oraki- _no,_ occhirete – "

"Orecchiette," Conan says suddenly. "It means '_little ears_' in Italian, because that's what they look like." His eyes brighten. "Thanks, hakase!"

Promptly, he runs out of the house, leaving Hakase and the Detective Boys to stare at the closing door, bemused.

…

Miyano Shiho – no, that is not her name anymore – well, _she _has always loved sunsets. She stares, with glazed eyes, at the brilliant red hues, the bright oranges, soft pinks. In front, the ocean is shimmering; sparkling like a thousand diamonds are hidden in its depths. Behind her, the pale buildings of the town of Otranto stand, in the _Puglia_ region of Italy.

She doesn't blink when a shadow suddenly falls over her and blocks her view.

"Go away," she says eloquently, "back to where you came from." When the figure doesn't move, she reluctantly drags her eyes over to his face. Kudo Shinichi grins.

"Hi," he says, and she ignores him as he flops down onto the sand next to her. The sea breeze is suddenly unbearably cold (_or maybe it is just his presence_) and she draws into herself, hugging her knees. After a few moments, she blinks and sighs and shakes her head.

She is tense and she is looking straight ahead, almost glaring at the sunset, when she mutters something inaudibly. "What?" Shinichi frowns, and moves closer.

"Sorry," Ai says, louder. Technically, she is not Haibara Ai anymore (_Haibara Ai is a seven-year-old, not a teenager_) but Haibara Ai had friends, and for the past few weeks, she had no one. Who is she now, when all her past selves had been stripped and thrown away? Unused to apologising, she mumbles the words quickly. "I shouldn't have gotten angry at you two weeks ago. It isn't your fault Nee-chan died."

Shinichi doesn't know what to say to that. "Well," he begins uncomfortably. "It's true that she was just a suspect at the beginning, and I only cared about denouncing her as the culprit later." Shinichi looks over at her but her eyes are expressionless, glued to the horizon. "Everything was in black-and-white then; people were either innocent, or guilty; good, or evil…" he trails off. The waves lap gently onto the sand, the tide creeping in.

"Then what happened?" Ai inquires.

"Then you appeared," he smiles ruefully. "I hated you at first. I couldn't understand you. I didn't want to. But… something changed."

"Something changed," she echoes.

"Yeah," he runs his hand through his hair. "Do you know? I was… so scared when I realised you weren't in Japan anymore. I never thought that you would leave. It's arrogant of me, I know – " he quickly says before Ai could interrupt, "but I thought that you would be there forever."

"Why would I stay?" she asks, softly. "Hakase has been like family to me, and the Detective Boys were probably my first real friends, but I would rather leave them alone than have them killed. The antidote was the only reason why Haibara Ai was alive."

"So who are you now?" Shinichi asks, and she shrugs.

"Miyano Shiho died along with Miyano Akemi," Ai says thoughtfully. "and Sherry died when no reason was given for Akemi's death," She blinks, stretches her arms. "Who am I? I don't know. I just want to be free."

"You _are_ free," Shinichi insists. "Look at this – " he gestures at the shimmering ocean, the now-faint sunset, the darkening sky. "_You_ chose to come here. You can do anything you want. You know, the other day, Jodie-sensei called me. She told me that they have evidence linking Vermouth to a murder – only one murder, though, but it's a start. It's enough to lock her up… they've also figured out Vodka's identity, and the only reason he hasn't been arrested yet is because they've been shadowing him to find more information… but the Organisation is falling, don't you see? You don't need to be scared…"

Self-deprecatingly, Ai smiles. "Your past always catches up to you someday," she says, "as does karma. Well, I don't mind if the FBI locks me up." She shrugs noncommittally. "In fact, I would be concerned if they didn't."

"You said it yourself," Shinichi says. "Sherry and Miyano Shiho are dead. The FBI isn't in a habit of sending innocent civilians to jail."

Ai laughs sadly. "Where did your sense of justice go?" she asks.

"I realised it was flawed when I met a girl named Haibara Ai," he says honestly. Ai scoffs.

"How did you find me anyway?" she asks dryly.

"I'm a detective," he says, and when Ai looks at him, she sees the familiar, typical, cocky smile on his face. "Orecchiette – your sister's favourite dish – it originates in the Puglia region of Italy. Well, to be honest, it was just an educated guess, because I was so desperate…" he trails off, not wanting to explain that it was actually a _wild_ guess and then elaborate on how, with no better idea, he had pinpointed and searched through so many of the historical, sea-side towns he found in her computer browser history, asking the staff of hotels and inns about Eurasian strawberry-blonde girls, having his hopes raised then dashed when he sees a similar hair colour or hair style…

He smiles self-deprecatingly when he realises that instead of being driven by cool logic and deduction as he always had, he had been relying on pure instinct and desperation.

Ai rolls her eyes, unconcerned with his explanations. "Well done, meitantei-san. You found me. Mission accomplished. Case closed." The sky is dark, and there is no one else on the beach. The cold wind whistles. "What are you going to do now?"

"_La dolce vita…_" he murmurs absently, and Ai looks at him, surprised. She is somewhat unsettled when she sees the softness of his smile, and the – almost _wistfulness,_ in his eyes. It can't be, she decides, it must be a trick of the silvery moonlight…

He stands up, holds his hand out to her.

"Let's go home," he says, and after a few moments, Ai finds herself taking his hand.

* * *

_FIN._


End file.
